Joined at the Dib
by the-unsquickable-kid
Summary: Zim's latest botched plan for conquest leaves Zim and Dib fused at the hip. Will the two nemeses EVER escape each other? Updated, with a shiny new chapter. More to come!
1. Default Chapter

All the Characters in the stories aren't mine, they belong to Jhonen Vasquez and Nickelodeon. If they want to sue me, they should know that I have a bad cold at all times, just in case.

Chapter 1

            Zim stared at the wall screen intensely. Usually, his Tallest would have contacted him by now, assuring him that his efforts were needed by the Irken armada, vital to operation Impending Doom 2 ™. The Earth, once conquered, could be used to fill the ever increasing inter-galactic need for parking space, package delivery, or possibly - Zim crossed his fingers - snack manufacture. But for now, the screen remained filled with static.

            "Gir!" called Zim, prompting the diminutive robot to fall from the ceiling. Zim noted with distaste that the little robot had apparently stuck itself there with taffy. "Gir! I need you to go to the roof and check the main antennae, there's something wrong with the transmission. If I don't speak to my tallest, they'll never know of my _Amazing_ plan to exterminate these pitiful stink-creatures!" He glanced at the array of old socks, rubber hose, and slugs, both alive and dead, on the table beside him.

            "Sir, I obey" saluted Gir, and rushed off, laughing hysterically, into a hatch that led to the roof.

            "My poor, insane sidekick," sighed Zim "Ah well." He turned to his slugs, "Now, to breed some DOOM!"

            Harold the slug was contentedly going about his sluggy business. It had been a long morning of chewing on lettuce and sliming up his plastic box, and now he thought he'd start the afternoon by inching his way along the floor, perhaps stopping for a bite of lettuce along the way. His ruminations were interrupted, however, by a black-gloved hand descending into his cage, grabbing him, and subjecting him to the most horrible and mind-bending tortures ever visited upon an invertebrate.

            Gir flew through the elevator shaft, skidding and bouncing his way up, compelled by the force of anti-gravity. He howled with joy as he burst into the landing attic and bounced off the voot-cruiser. "Whoops", he said, "almost forgot my disguise!" And he donned his yellow dog suit. "Yay, now I'm invisible!" He opened the window, jumped out, and activated his jets. As the poorly stitched dog ascended, he noted the curious absence of the large antennae on the roof of the house. He also noticed, with much more delight, the box of poop-sickle candies in its place. Screaming in manic pleasure, Gir pounced on the box, oblivious to the dark figure sneaking up behind him.

            Dib knew he would have only one chance. Although he had successfully removed the alien satellite dish (cleverly disguised as a human satellite dish) from the roof (using only his cunning, two welding tanks, a hack saw, and a dollop of his father's industrial KY jelly), he still had to disable Gir. Zim's robot minion-of-death was lightning fast, possessing all the cunning that advanced alien technology could muster. Also, he would be through the candy in a few seconds. Dib marched forward dutifully, robot containment device (an old coffee sack) held firmly in his grip. He tensed, ready to jump on the horrible metal fiend disguised as a harmless dog. Before he could do so, however, he slipped, lost his footing, and slid to edge of the roof with a loud shout. Gir turned towards him, smiling. "Hey! I know you! Why's your head so big?"

            "My head's not big!" exclaimed Dib, hanging onto the ledge of the roof with one hand, the containment device with the other. His fingers began to give way. If only he could convince the robot to betray his master, to help his mortal enemy, to -.

            "Coffee!" screamed Gir on sight of the robot containment device. He dived into the bag headlong, which Dib (foolishly, in retrospect, since they really were easy to come by) held on to, sending them both plunging to the ground. They crashed thunderously into the brushes, and then all was silence. A few moments later, Dib came stumbling around the front of the house. Nothing seemed broken and, yes, his hair was still intact, structurally reinforced by many twigs and leaves. Shrugging, Dib walked through the front door, ignoring Zim's robot parents as they greeted their "son".


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            Harold the slug prayed for death. Once a happy, productive member of slug society, he was now a hideously deformed mass of slug-flesh, cotton, and rubber. He knew that he was an early mistake in his captor's evil plans. Intended to be the ultimate slug warrior, with all the strengths of a slug and none of its weaknesses, he was instead a horribly botched experiment: To be learned from, never corrected. He gasped, using his newfound telepathic powers to call out to his abuser, with a simple plea: "Salt me…please salt me!" Instead, Zim shoved another rubber hose through him.

            Zim cackled evilly to himself - the malleability serum was working wonderfully. Of course, he had invented it, so that was no surprise. "Truly I am amazing!" he said to the suicidal slug on the table. Unfortunately, this specimen didn't seem to be holding up any better than the last ones. Already, its eye-stocks had a dull, glazed-over look. Zim wondered idly how many more socks it could take before it finally died. It turned out to be three.

            Zim grabbed the malleability serum and eyed it. Although an amazing success and yet further evidence of his clear superiority, there was room for improvement. It still took nearly an entire bottle to make a single slug pliable enough to stick rubber hose through. With a little practice, he would be able to fuse two slugs together, and then two more, and so on, until he had a slug so large it could crush the humans and leave them squirming in a trail of slimy DOOM ! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! He picked up his latest experiment to throw into the trash, turned around and -

            Flash!

            Zim was momentarily blinded by the strobe of Dib's camera.

            "Now I have you, you alien goon. Now people will have to believe me wh - Oh gross what is that thing?" yelped Dib, pointing a shaky finger at Harold's remains.

            "Uh…What?" said Zim, hiding the slug / rubber hose / cotton sock blob behind his back. Briefly, the "Rules of the Irken Invader" flashed through his mind. The first rule is: "Do not get discovered". The second rule is, of course, "Destroy anyone who discovers you". The third rule is, quite logically, "Don't get discovered again." With minor addendums, these directives cover rules four to seven-hundred twenty three, followed by rules regarding the safety, storage, and preparation of snacks. Right now though, thought Zim grimly, was no time for snacks.

            "That thing!" yelled Dib, "That hideous slug-thing! What sick alien perversion of nature have you created Zim?"

            "Oh, uh, _this_ thing? Why that's just my uh, my pet slock-monster. I, uh, love him dearly…" Zim held the twisted slug-corpse to his chest.

            "Man, Zim, that's lame, even for you. I'm in your base, already!" Dib exclaimed. He raised the camera to his eye to take another picture. Suddenly, Harold the slock-monster hit him squarely upside the head, and Zim tackled him around the waist.

            It was an epic struggle, man (boy) vs alien (green boy). The walls shook with the force of the pounding fists (they were surprisingly weak walls). Neither was willing to give ground, neither to surrender. The only options were grim, screaming death or glorious victory, and both -

            "Ouch, quit it!" shrieked Did as Zim rubbed his knuckles into his head furiously. "That really hurts!"

            "Take that, Earth-stink" Cried Zim. He flipped the squirming Dib over, straddling him. He raised his fist to land the killing slap.

            "Nooooo!" cried Dib, raising his hands defensively.

            Zim cackled maniacally…

            Something broke…

            Zim looked down at his crotch, and screamed. The bottle of malleability serum had been crushed, and was now seeping between him and his sworn enemy.

            "Hey? What the?" gasped Dib, as they began to merge, molecular bonds shifting and reforming. "What is that stu- !"

            Zim tried to jump off, but it was too late, the two had fused. Zim was now "buried", waist deep, in Dib.

            "Oh, oh, this is just gross!" yelled Dib, gaping in horror at their misshapen predicament. It looked like Zim was growing out of his crotch. He wanted to vomit.

            Zim looked around him, desperate to find some way to reverse the effect. "No! What have I done! This is just, I mean, this is really…your fault earth pig!"

            "What? My fault? You're the one who made this creepy stuff."

            "You fool! Only a stinking, filthy, ugly, smelly, big-headed human would fuse himself to an Irken invader! I will crush your species, after I am free of your hideous, hey, what are you…sit down you fool!"

            Dib grunted with Zim's weight on (in?) his lap as he struggled to his feet. He finally managed to stand, despite Zim's attempts to keep him down. Now, Zim was hanging from his crotch, head on the floor, trying desperately to right himself.

            "Sit down this minute stink-boy!" Zim cried, wiggling to and fro.

            "Stop that Zim!" cried Dib. He was having a hard time maintaining his balance, with Zim waving his body about. "I'm going to fall!" Dib yelled as both of them toppled over, landing with Zim on the bottom.

            "Ughhh, get off of me!"

            "Believe me, I'm trying!" Dib grunted, trying to right himself. Their faces were uncomfortably close. Each winced at the others gruesome foulness. Gasping, Zim pushed against Dib's chest, but the two arch-nemeses were stuck fast. Finally, Dib managed to roll to the side, leaving the pair panting on the floor.

            "Ok Zim…There's obviously no way we can solve this by fighting, we're just going to have to- Ow ! Hey!" Dib yelped as Zim began poking him with one of his spider legs. The leg's tip was glowing green. Zim was going to cut himself out! Dib swatted away the leg.

            "Grr. If you expect me to stay fused to your inferior hide, you are greatly mistaken Dib-monster." Zim breathed icily. "Humans sleep, Irkens do not…"

            "Zim, I hate you, and you hate me…but there has to be a way out of this without killing one of us. You must have made an antidote!"

            "Invaders have no need of antidotes! Antidotes are for failures!"

            "Well, what do you call this?"

            "A temporary set-back. Soon I will cut my way through your horrible meat-body, and then…" Dib hit him over the head with a rubber hose, and all went lavender (Irkens lavender-out, you see). Gir walked by, slurping a poop-cola. He stopped, waved at the hapless and hideously deformed spectacle of his master and his greatest enemy, and continued towards the elevator. Dib grunted to his feet, hoisted Zim by the antennae, and went home...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

            "Mm-mmf mm." said Zim. Dib ignored him.

            "Mm Mmm, Mm-mmf mm."

            "No Zim," hissed Dib. "Now be quiet until we get home."

            The cabbie eyed his fare with the nonchalant disapproval of the seasoned professional. He only _wished_ that the boy with the humungous head and oddly shaped coffee bag on his lap was his weirdest customer of the night. So far he had seen a man with a metal pipe stuck through his head who had insisted on being taken "back to the hardware store" rather than the emergency room, a small and oddly terrifying Chihuahua, and a man dressed as, and seemingly ashamed to be, a giant Taco. None had tipped well. The fact that this boy talked to the squirming sack on his lap only meant that he was crazy, and therefore no threat. It was the sane ones you had to look out for.

            Zim writhed again, prompting Dib to give the bag a few good whacks. That shut him up. Dib had, of course, made sure Zim was bound and gagged before the ride home. He had also taken care to duct tape Zim's pak closed, preventing those creepy legs of his from extending. The strain on his back from carrying his new and evil appendage was too much to walk all the way home, so he had resorted to taking a cab as the only way to get back unnoticed.

            A distant, small voice in the back of his brain was screaming. A terror, a creeping, nauseating, horrible thought loomed in his mind like an elephant about to sit on his head, suspended only by the need to stay calm, to deal with the crisis at hand. Once home, Dib knew, once safe and away from the prying eyes of the world, he would have to think the unthinkable thought in his brain. What if there was no cure? What would he do if this were permanent, if Zim was fused to his crotch forever? How could he become a paranormal investigator with a malevolent alien dangling between his legs? Not to mention all the potential complications when it came time to date.

            But Dib wasn't thinking that. Not yet. These thoughts would have their due time. For now, he had to concentrate on getting back home without causing a scene. Maybe, somewhere in his father's lab, an answer could be found. Once separated, Zim would pay, oh, how he would pay!

            The cab pulled up in front of Dib's house. He clutched the sack to his chest, got out, paid the cabbie (who looked at the tip with a professional, seasoned sneer), and walked into the house. Luckily, Gaz wasn't in the living room. Dib carefully walked up the stairs, into his room, shut the door, turned on the light, and allowed the elephant to take a load off.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

            Another hideous space mutant writhed in pain, was enveloped by flames, and disappeared. Gaz grinned to herself. She had only five more levels to go and she would beat _Deadly Invaders of Deadly Deadliness 6_, the game that had frustrated, no, taunted her, all week long. There, the secret portal, if she could just concentrate-

            "Waugh!"…thud.

            Her finger slipped…game over. Rage washed over her, a terrible, annoyed, and yet all-too-familiar rage…

            A rage named Dib.

            She marched out of her room and down the hall. Some people grit their teeth, Gaz gritted her face. There was a thin whine emanating from Dib's room. Something heavy dropped to the floor and broke. Gaz stood in front of her brother's door. She kicked it open.

            Dib and Zim were again at each other's throats, literally.

            "L-l-gasp-let go!" Dib managed to choke out as Zim tightening his grip.

            "Y-you first s-s-stink-beast!" gurgled Zim.

            A toy flying saucer hit him in the head, knocking him off balance and sending both of them keeling to the ground. Dib lay gasping like a fish.

            "Thanks Gaz!" he wheezed. "That was…ouch!" He rubbed his head where the alien figurine had whacked it.

            "You'll pay for ruining my game, Dib." hissed Gaz, staring down at the hapless duo. "You'll pay through the nose." She whacked him again in the nose. He yelped.

            "Gaz! Listen to me. Zim has…"

            "…fused himself to your crotch in a hideous mockery of nature. Tell someone who cares, Dib…" She whacked him once more, for good measure, and walked out of the room.

Dib rubbed his nose and turned back to Zim, just in time to catch a toy flying saucer in the face.

"Ouch!"

"Ha ha ha! Victory for Zim!"

"Shut up. We have to get down to my Dad's lab, there may be a way out of this somehow…"

"Filthy vomit-worm…there is no escape from Zim!" He cackled. Dib sighed.

"Zim! I've got the legs, remember. As long as we're like this, you're just an appendage, a hideous, annoying appendage!"

"Ungrateful scum!" Zim shrieked. "A stink-beast like you is not worthy to have such an amazing extremity as me! It is you who are the appendage."

"Maybe Zim, but if I knock you out, I can still walk around. If you knock me out, you're stuck until I wake up…"

"Hmmm. I see your point, appendage. And I admire your ruthlessness. For now, we work toge- ow!" Dib raised the alien figurine for another blow to Zim's skull.

"Hey, quit it!" he yelled. Dib lowered the memento, red faced…

"I, uh, thought I could knock ya out there…heh heh." He grinned sheepishly.

"Ugh. Alright, let us go to your worm-parent's lab…"

Dib began to throw the coffee bag over Zim, who thrashed about and threw it to the ground.

"Not like that! I don't want you knocking me out again!"

"Well you have to stay out of sight, Zim, I can't shock my dad with an alien dangling between my legs. He hasn't seen me naked since I was five, and…"

"Never mind that! I have a brilliant disguise." Zim chuckled…


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

            There were days when being the greatest scientific mind on cable had its advantages. This was such a day. Slowly, with the care and precision of a man defusing a bomb, except the exact opposite, Membrane inserted a final electrical lead into the device on the table. It was now armed. A little red light started blinking at its center, glowing with some unknown, quite possibly terrifying power. The professor took two slow steps back as the light pulsed faster, then dashed behind a triple re-enforced, eight inch thick piece of Seld-M-Melt™ transparent concrete. He watched the timer count-down. Almost there…so close…

            "Uh, dad?" Dib said, swinging open the door to the lab.

            "No !" yelled his father, throwing his gloved hands into the air, a dramatic but futile gesture.

            There was a roaring explosion, a massive, deafening thud, a squeak, and then nothing. Then there was another explosion, followed by a kind of tinkling noise, and finally a sound reminiscent of a moose-call. Dib stared at the device on the table, unable to fathom why anything would make such racket…

            "Oh No! You've spoilt your birthday present, son! And you have what appears to be a green child fused to your groin."

            "My birthday present?" wondered Dib. "What is it? You usually get me a chemistry set and a straight jacket in a box labeled 'choose'."

            "This year is different, son. In the interests of efficiency I've been working on a combination scientific learning kit slash whole body restraint for the mentally deranged! I call it the 'straight-jacket of science'!"

            "Uh, that's great Dad. Listen, do you have a minute?"

            "Of course I do. I've got one next June, if you'd like it."

            "Uh, I meant now."

            "This wouldn't have anything to do with that horrible green boy stuck to your groin, would it?" asked Prof. Membrane, leader of the world scientific community, enemy of Santa Claus, and non-believer in aliens.

            "Well, yeah, as a matter of fact-."

            "Allow me to explain, worm-filth" said Zim, suddenly. "Your big-headed spawn-creature has interfered with my _very_ scientific experiment and fused himself to _me_, Zim."

            "I see." Intoned Membrane, his displeasure evident. "He _is_ insane, you see, and-"

            "Yes, yes, the boy is quite _horrible_, I know. But as the victim of his unprovo-"

            "He was trying to destroy mankind! He's an alien!" said Dib, his frustrated gyrations wiggling Zim about. "He had this slug, and it was terrible, with the socks, and, well, look!" Dib snatched off Zim's wig and contact lenses, exposing his antennae and red, bulbous eyes. Zim made a shocked, gasping noise and covered his face.

            "My goodness son!" the professor shouted. "I had no idea."

            Dib looked at him, his eyes growing moist. "You mean…you believe me?" he whispered, barely daring to speak the words, lest he break the spell.

            "I certainly do, son, and now I know that you're CONTAGIOUSLY insane!" Dib's father pulled a lever, and a panel on the far wall slid away. A giant white robot, built like a gorilla and wearing a nurse's hat emerged. A logo its chest read 'Restraint And Transportation of Crazies to Hospital - Emergency Droid - RATCHED'" It was holding what looked like a padded baseball bat.

            "I'm sorry, son, but I have to quarantine you before you infect anyone else!"

The robot lurched forward. A thin metallic voice emanated from inside. "Now, now, target 01, just come along quietly, we'll fix you right up." Then with a shriek: "Target Acquired, Initiate passive restraint mode." Little ports opened up in the robot's head, and tiny medicinal darts shot at Dib's head. They landed squarely, unable to avoid his enormous cranium even if they'd wanted too.

            Zim glared at the droid. "No one calls Zim a figment of Dib's imagination!" And, grunting with all his might, managed to get one spider leg out of his pak and through the duct tape. He hooked it around Membrane's back and yanked him, hard, into the path of the oncoming robot of doom. The two collided, buying Zim just enough time to use his single spider leg to cut the rest free, extend them, and scurry, with an unconscious Dib hanging awkwardly under him, out the door.

            Professor Membrane, heaped on top of the robo-ratched, stared after him. "Did that hallucination just run off with my son, or am I crazy?"

            "Possible confession of insanity!" yelped the robot, and shot him with darts, put him in a strait-jacket, and sat on him until the authorities could arrive.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Hey there to all the people who reviewed. Thank you so much. This is my first fic, and I never thought I would get so much support. You rock. I have also re-edited the end of this chapter because I thought it was a little too graphic. So now it's all hunky-dory! Well, more hunky than dory, really. I think its faboo about halfway down, too.

Chapter 6

There was hush about the Massive. The crew of the central control room, nerve center of the flagship of the mighty Irken armada, the very place where the fate of worlds was decided, trembled in fear before the towering wrath of its masters. The Tallest were not amused.

"Who stole the last spooge-cake?" bellowed one overlord of all Irkdom, holding a sacrilegiously empty plate up for all to see. "Huh? HUH?"

"We know it was one of you!" screamed the other, addressing the many smaller Irkens paralyzed with fear at their stations. "Confess! Sinners!"

"We'll give you till the count of three!"

"And then it's out the airlock for all of you!" Roared the Tallest, choking with snack deprived fury.

"Sir…" communications drone second class Git whimpered.

"It was you!" screeched the closest Tallest, whirling around. He pressed a button on his arm console, and the meager but loyal Irken's chair plummeted into a hidden hatch on the ground.

"Uh, maybe we should have heard him out…" the other Tallest said, putting a hand on his comrade's shoulder.

"But he stole our snacks, a crime against all Irkens everywhere! Let one get away, and we'd have chaos!" the first replied, as Git's squirming form slid by the viewport.

"Actually, sir…" communications drone second class Git's commanding officer Kax said. The tallest turned to him, fiery rage burning, finger poised over the button.

"There's-a-transmission-from-earth-it's-Zim-please-don't-send-me-out-the-airlock-I'll-be-your-friend-oh-please!" Kax squeeled, throwing his arms up in a useless defensive gesture.

"Zim? Good, if I can't find out who stole the snack, we can at least take it out on him! Onscreen!"

Zim's face appeared. He seemed to be grunting with exertion.

"My…huff…tallest. So…good…to…see you…"

"What is it Zim, we're having a snack related crisis here, and we're not in the mood for games. Why are you out of breath, anyway?"

"I'm sorry, my Tallest. I have…become fused with an Earthenoid dirt-child. My, uh, arch-nemesis, in fact. He is…quite heavy. I think due to his enormous skull, so full of useless _brains_!"

"Zim, I'm sure that I'll regret asking, but how did you…no, I already regret asking."

"My Tallest, the scans of our, um, conjoined areas indicate that simply amputating either one of us would be fatal to both. I request immediate use of the research facilities on Vort in order to find a _brilliant solution_."

"The last time you were on Vort you set back the evolution of our species two-hundred years, Zim. And you sent a computer virus throughout the empire that caused all snack dispensers to only dispense boxes of raisins. For ten years. I hate raisins, Zim. We all do…now."

Zim looked at them quizzically.

"Don't you remember? The Great Raisining? The Time of Shriveling Terror? The second darkest chapter in Irken history, after Impending Doom I?

"Hmmm, ah well, I guess I wasn't paying attention. So nice to go over past _accomplishments_ though. What of my request?" Intoned Zim.

"Request denied, Zim." Sneered one of the tallest. "There's snack thievery about, and the last thing we need is…hey, is that a spooge-cake in your hand?"

"Huh?" Zim stopped munching on the cake he had been absently eating for the last few moments.

"Where did you get it?"

"I, uh, found it…in a dog…gotta go."

"Hhhrrrggg!" Zim mused angrily, staring at the still unconscious earth-boy stuck to his pelvis. "This is _horrible_!"

"Computer!"

"Yes?" sighed the computer, evidently interrupted wishing it was still a young calculator back on Calculatrix, birthplace of machine intelligence and home to the galaxy's most user-friendly moose.

"Are you certain that there is no way to remove the Dib monster without permanently killing _me_?"

"A-hem, after taking _hundreds_ of scans of your…" (The computer shuddered, electronically, a feature it requested in its last remote software upgrade.) "…innards, I have come to the conclusion that you and the human have become inseparable. Not only did your serum-"

"My _brilliant_ serum!" corrected Zim, folding his arms triumphantly.

"Uh, right. Your serum somehow fused both sets of internal organs, which explains how you're still, you know, alive and stuff."

"Hmmm" Zim squinted one eye and placed his hand under his chin. From a distance, it looked like he was thinking. "Which organs?"

"Well, as you can see…" said the computer, displaying an anatomical chart, "You now have one set of renal organs, intestines, liver, procreative organs, squiddly-spooge, blaxo-"

"WHAT !?" cried Zim. "What do you mean _procreative organs_?"

"Look for yourself." yawned the computer, making a mental note to apply for the ability to e-vomit in the next upgrade.

"With black-gloved hands trembling ever so slightly, Zim prodded the "area" where he and Dib connected. There _was_ something there. Something…_horrible_. Zim suppressed a shudder. The shudder, knowing it had but moment to complete its revulsion-expressing task, quickly regrouped and looked for another avenue of escape. Zim sneezed in disgust. Odd. The _thing_ seemed to be stirring beneath the black fabric of their clothes.

"We'll have none of that, earth-filth!" Zim screamed, and punched Dib in the balls, hard. A blinding, agonizing, other-worldly pain filled Zim's belly. Dib's eyes snapped open as both of them howled in pain, and then both passed out.

GIR trotted into the room, picked up the half eaten spooge cake, and trotted out. It had been one of those days.


	7. Chapter 7

            Zim's robot dad was not the most efficient, intelligent, or even remotely sane autonomous parent droid in the world, but he knew when his pseudo son was having problems. So when he found Zim with a strange, large-headed, and abominably _human_ protrusion from his crotch, he decided it was time for a heart to heart with his son.

            Zim, of course, was still unconscious. He was also drooling slightly. That, mused Robo-Dad, was normal for a boy his age.

            "Son!" cried the robot, taking him around the shoulder and lifting him to his feet, eliciting a groan from Dib as his head hit the floor, "At your age, certain things are changing, certain…private things…down there."

            "Huh?" murmured Zim, coming slowly to consciousness.

            "It's normal for a young man to want to understand these processes. And naturally your mother and I support you in whatever brand of coffee you choose." Suddenly, his eyes flashed fire, his face screwed into a mask of bitterness and paternal angst. He loomed down at the half conscious Zim, and addressed him in low, menacing whisper.           "But not decaf, son. Never decaf."

            "Zuh?"

            Robo-Dad dropped him to the floor and struck a dramatic pose, claw to his forehead. "Woe to those who drink of the demon-bean!" He rolled off, crying tears of coolant which sizzled on the floor.

            "Muh…" Said Zim, and looked at Dib. The human was still out, his enormous head lolling about with Zim's every move. Zim wiggled. Dib awoke.

            "Hey, cut that out. Ouch!" he gingerly put his hands between them.

            "That really, really, REALLY, _REALLY_, hurt Zim! Don't ever do that to me again!"

            "You mean, 'do that to us', no?" said Zim. "It would seem that our pain centers have become fused as well. The only conclusion that makes ANY sense is that your inferior nervous system is slowly _infecting _my own, which mean that I feel your pain!"

           "Hey, who's infecting who here?" said Dib. Seeing Zim's hand on the floor, he whacked it with his fist. Zim cried out, gritting his teeth. Dib pulled his hand back, startled as it throbbed in sympathetic pain. "Hey, Zim! I just fel- Ow!" Zim rubbed his own head, having just felt his own slap.

            "Grrr. This is all your fault, human! You won't even the give me the satisfaction of causing you pain! Gir!" The little robot screeched to a halt beside the two enemies, eyes red with obedient vigor.

            "Sir!" Zim smacked him in the head.

            "Ow! Why'd you do that?" cried the robot. His eyes grew wide and blue, a picture of wounded innocence focused entirely on his cruel master. So he didn't see it coming when Dib slapped him from behind. Gir jumped back, afraid. The two looked at him, menacingly.

            "If we can't hurt each other…" said Dib…

            "Then perhaps we'll abuse you…" sneered Zim.

            Gir, desperate, had the chance for one last, desperate look of desperation and desperate despair, and then he desperately tried to escape Zim and Dib's clutches. His was not, it seemed, desperate enough. The twisted nemeses inflicted the full force of their insane hatred for each other on the poor robot, pummeling him as only a boy and an alien, stuck together at the hip, possibly could.

            Perhaps now would be a good time to go into the construction of the Irken SIR robot. The Standard Information Retrieval unit is composed almost entirely of Irk-o-plast, a high-density composite drink container  plastic, used to guard all the most important of Irken beverages. It is, after all, a thermos. Therefore, the comparatively puny efforts of a struggling boy and alien to dent a SIR's thick hide would amount to the following.

            "Hey, that tickles"

            "Arg!, My fists! My beautiful fists!"

            Dib paused his assault on the hapless robot, and not just because his knuckles were bleeding. He looked towards Zim, still raggedly beating his fists against Gir, who was slurping a soda and reading a comic book.

            "Zim?" asked Dib. "Zim!"

            "What?" cried the Invader, trying to shake some feeling into his hands.

            "Since when have I been this aggressive?"

            "What do you mean, earth-scum?"

            "I mean, I've always wanted to stop your evil…"

            "Ingenious evil!" corrected Zim.

            "Uh, right. But when did I ever want to beat up Gir? Or you, for that matter?"

            Zim paused, thinking. "Go on…"

            "I, I think I've gained some of your aggression, Zim. I think we're becoming…"

            "If the next word out of your mouth is 'one', I will destroy you." hissed Zim.

            "Well, do you feel any different?"

            "No. Well, I do have the sudden urge to turn myself in to the authorities for autopsy."

            Dib looked at him.

            "Damn you, human! It wasn't enough to have my precious, superior body, you want to steal my _mind_!" As if your puny intellect could hold the thoughts of ZIM!"

            "Zim, we have to think about this, there must be some way out of this situation, while out minds are still intact."

            "Enough talk, earth boy!" cried Zim, and reached behind him for the Death Ray™

he knew to be under the console. Dib stared into the face of death. A face with two big blue glowing eyes.

            "Hi!" said Gir.

            Zim released his grip on the little robot's feet.

            "Where's my death ray, Gir?"

            "I keeps ma muffins in there now!" said Gir, and pulled out a muffin from under the console. He stuffed it into his mouth and chewed happily. "Tuna!" he yelped, and danced off into the base.

            Dib looked off after him. Then he noticed something, a glint, under the console, within his reach: The Death Ray™ : sleek, deadly, and purple. He looked toward Zim, but he was distracted, searching around under the table. His eyes fell again on the gun.

            "It would be so easy," said a small, familiar voice in his head. "Just take it. Destroy Zim. And then…the world! Hahahaha!" Sweat beaded on Dib's forehead. Zim was still under the console, his back turned. Dib's hand twitched. It started to move, almost of its own accord, towards the gun… almost there, almost…

            "What are you doing with that snack dispenser, human? Said Zim. Dib could barely react as the gun was snatched from his hand. Zim put the trigger to his mouth and poured out some white, whip-creamy looking stuff. He swallowed happily. "Minty!"

            "Ok, Zim, that's just weird. Now think, there must be some way out of…each other."

            "Surely that _giant_ head of yours contains some laughable plans!" chuckled Zim, "Tell me so that I might laugh! At you. For having a stupid plan."

            "Well…" said Dib…


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 9

            Zim cocked his eye at Dib. "Well what?"

            "Huh?" murmured Dib.

            "You  blanked out there, just now. You said 'well…' and then stood there, staring into space.

            "Oh, yeah, that is weird." Dib furrowed his brow.

            "Were you waiting for something?" asked Zim, looking at the earth-boy confusedly.

            "No, no. Just thought I wouldn't have to think of something right away, for some reason. Oh well."

            "So you don't have any ideas. At all." queried the Invader.

            "Nope, none. You?"

            "I have a _Million_ genius plans!" cried Zim, shaking his fists in the air.

            "But not for this…" sighed Dib.

            "Not as such, no." admitted Zim.

            Dib glanced at his watch. "You know what helps me think? Watching Mysterious Mysteries™."

            Gir, who had been busy trying to stuff himself into a turkey, jumped up, spewed a remote from his head, and plopped himself down in front of the giant view-screen. Mysterious Mysteries came on, the bearded and bespectacled host just beginning his introduction. Zim and Dib waddled over to sit awkwardly beside Gir.

            "Tonight on Mysterious Mysteries," the host intoned, staring feverishly into the camera "We uncover the TRUTH about the Loch-ness monster. Is it a dinosaur, or a secret Scottish military aircraft? But first, the AMAZING story of Siamese twins, once fused, who, through a strange and MYSTERIOUS process, are now separated and leading normal lives!"

            "Oh wow! What are the odds?" cried Dib. "I mean, to be watching the show at exactly the right moment? This is great, now, to find out-"

            "I wanna watch color-bars!" shrieked Gir, and flipped the channel to the color bar station, all color-bars, all the time.

            The ensuing brawl lasted several minutes, and resembled something like a giant caterpillar mating with a monkey. It sounded something like this: "Gir, I command you!...Give it here…Hey, you're on my side…I wanna cheese whistle!...Stop poking us there…Stop I love this show!...Got it!" It was also nicely lit in hues ranging from red to green to blue. Suffice it to say that when the remote was finally under Dib's control, the presenter was just wrapping up:

            "And that is how two men, joined at the hips, were able to free themselves. For more information, wait for this episode to air again.

            "Gir." Said Zim. "You're a bad robot. A bad, bad robot."

            "Yay!"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

            Zim stared at Dib. Dib stared at Zim. Gir stared at his feet. Gir's feet stared at Zim and Dib. It was a vicious cycle. Dib opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, and closed it. Zim opened his mouth to yell, but thought better of it. He yelled anyway, though.

            "_Surely_ there _must_ be _some_ _way_ out of this _horrible_ conundrum!" shrieked Zim, raging and setting a new record for the number of italics used at one time. "And why on earth would I use the word Conundrum? Gasp! Or the phrase; 'why on earth'? I must be losing more of my mind to _you_ earth-stink!"

            Dib fought a raging battle against himself. If only Zim knew how he longed for him, yearned for him, needed him…to BE QUIET!

            "Listen Zim, I don't like you, and you don't like me…" hissed Dib, propping himself up on one elbow, pointing at Zim with the other.

            "Ha! Your dislike of me is a mere fraction of the _loathing_ that courses through my veins!"

            "Are you honestly competing with me over how much you hate me?"

            "Bah! You're pitiful ape-brain could never contain my dark, burning hate. Your very large head would explode from the throbbing pressure of my distaste!"

            "Um…Ok…Look, I think we can figure a way out of this. We just need to work together for a little while. Then we can go back to…wait…go back..." A tiny blue pen-light of hope flickered in Dib's eyes. He looked at Zim, the hint of a smile coming to his lips. Zim was still on a tirade.

            "- brains would then boil from the sheer heat of my revulsion, all over the floor. Try cleaning that up with your primitive Earth cleansers, ha!"

            "Go back. That's it. Zim!" Dib cried, squirming awkwardly in excitement.

            "Huh? What? I'm fuming here."

            "Where's your time machine. The one you used to send rubber piggies into the past, to kill me, remember?"

            "No." said Zim.

            "Of course you do. I was a big robo-boy, I smashed your house, vowed revenge."

            Zim stared at him blankly.

            "Zim, I need to know where that thing is. It may be our only hope."

            "I don't know what your talking about. You're insane. Isn't he Gir?"

            "Yes." Said Gir solemnly. "Yes he is."

            "But. But, I was sure that you had a time-machine. I saw it..."

            "Besides," said Gir, "you wouldn't remember the time-machine because we sent a message back and undid it so it never happened but if it didn't happen then you couldn't ask about it but you did and I'm telling you about it but you never saw it so how did you know and I want toquitos!" Shouted Gir. And it was a good thing, too, for had he continued, his brain would have imploded, creating a tiny black hole that would sink to the center of the earth, devouring all matter and collapsing the solar system to a ball the size of Dib's head.

            "Ah ha! So there _is_ a time machine!"

            "Nonsense!" yelled Zim "Unless you mean the temporal displacement device." Zim pointed lazily over his shoulder to an unoccupied corner of the room. "I sent that back to the Tallest. They wanted it so they could eat the same snacks over again."

            "That doesn't make any…well, we need it. It's our only way out of this!" said Dib, motioning down at their fused crotches. "If we had it, we could go back in time and stop ourselves from ever being fused together!"

            "Hmmm…" mused Zim, rubbing the place where his chin would be. "You make sense dirt-child. No doubt _my_ incredible psyche asserting itself. Very well, we shall appeal to The Tallest for my equipment. And then we shall go…back to the past!"

            "You mean yesterday?" Dib would have said, had Gir not jumped on his head and screamed like a monkey, screaming "I'm screaming like a monkey! Try and stop me!"

            Light years away, The Tallest shuddered involuntarily.


	10. Chapter 10

Hey there. Sorry it's been _So_ long since I updated. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, it's been a great help. This story has been really fun to write, and I love all the feedback. Enjoy.

Chapter 10

The bridge of the massive was lit up in the warm auburn glow of yet another flaming world that had fallen to the might of the Irken armada. The planets name was Skorch, and it was currently on fire. This would be sadly ironic on earth, where the word "scorch" means "burnt", but to the Tallest it was doubly funny, for in Irken the word "scorch" means "lovingly built over centuries of prosperity and social enlightenment." It was not a word they used often.

"Send in the snack ships!" ordered one tallest as he sucked juice from a box. On screen, he watched the giant transports, laden with pop-corn, marshmallows, and hotdogs, dive into the burning planet's upper atmosphere, heating their contents to a high grade of military deliciousness. The Tallest licked their lips as they watched the first of the ships return.

"My Tallest, there's an incoming message from Zim! Shall I put him on screen?" asked the communications officer.

"Just for asking, you get a zap," said the tallest, and pressed a button on his arm console. The loyal Irken writhed in pain as his Pak sent a jolt through his spine.

"Now, let's see what he wants." said the Tallest.

"B-but, you sai- ack!" cried the poor communications officer as he was jolted again. "Right, on-screen" he whimpered.

Zim's face appeared on the view-screen. He seemed graver than usually, on the verge of saying something of grave personal import. Gravely.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked.

"Uh…" said the tallest "Not too bad, you?"

"Well, you know, can't complain. Got a dirt-kid stuck to me."

"Yeah, still huh?"

"Yeah, yeah. Kinda why I called."

"Uh, ok."

"I was just sorta wondering if you still had that thingamabob I lent you, you know, the time displacement doohickey. I was thinkin' I could, y'know…alter the past to avoid my horrible doomed fate of doom."

"Well, uh…hey, you said that was a _gift_!" accused the tallest. "You know how much that thing means to us, we use it to eat snacks twice. See this snack?" he said, holding up a snack. "I ate this already." He leaned into the screen conspiratorially. "It tastes better the second time…"

"Well, can I at least _borrow_ it for a while?" asked Zim. "I'm kind of in a jam here."

"You seem a little…different, Zim" remarked the tallest. "A little less…forceful…you're barely even italicizing."

"Well, if you must know. Sorry, _must_ know, this rotten filth-monster's personality seems to be leaking into my own, like so much…leaking…stuff…"

"I see…you know, you're less irritating this way."

"Probably, I am pretty irritating, most of the time."

"Maybe you should stay this way, Zim, I think you'd be less of a problem for us."

"Well, if that's what you wan-" Zim tried to say, before going over head first to the floor as Dib somersaulted into view.

"No! Tallest! You have to listen to me! Listen to _Dib_! If you don't give us this time-machine, we'll be stuck like this forever. All of my plans, my plans of _conquest_ will be ruined! I must con-, I mean, enlighten mankind…heh heh"

"Ok, this is we're used to… request den-"

"No! Almighty Tallest, I have a proposition. Give us the time machine, and we'll give you the formula for Zim's malleability serum!"

"Hey, that's mine, you can't just give it away!" cried Zim from under the console. He was awkwardly trying to climb up to the view-screen, but Dib held on with manic fury.

"Why on Irk would we want _that_?" chucked the tallest. "It seems _horrible_"

"But think of the snacks!" cried Dib, "with this serum, you could combine two, three, even _four_ snacks into _one_!"

There was a hushed silence on the bridge of the massive. The crew all stared at the screen in awed stultification.

"Go on." breathed the tallest.

"Imagine, twinkies and hotdogs, mixed with sugar puffs and…and…spooge cake!" yelped Dib. "sugar-spooge-twinkie-dogs! All the power of many snacks, combined into one!"

The Tallests' eyes watered a little. They licked their lips. "Alright, earth boy, it's a deal. You get us the serum, we give you the machine. Send the machine to earth!" ordered the Tallest. Dib grinned in relief as the transport officer was stirred from his reverent hush. He wiped a tear from his eye and keyed in the sequence to activate the transporter.

Deep in the bowels of _The Massive_, the time displacement device was bathed in an ethereal glow, and vanished, beaming its way to Zim's base. On the bridge of the massive, the crew stood, turned to Dib's image, and saluted.

"Truly, this is a great day for all Irk-kind…" whispered one Tallest.

"Hey, who wants s-mores?" the other yelled as a table-headed server-drone appeared with war-warmed snacks for all.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Dib stared in awe at the donut shaped object before him. The time displacement device seemed to surge with otherworldly, extra-dimensional power, like a donut filled with the seething energies of time itself. Zim yawned.

"Can we just do this thing Earthling?" asked Zim. "I've got other stuff to do today, y'know?"

Dib looked at his conjoined hip-mate. "What could you _possibly_ have to do today that would be more important than getting us out of this?" cried Dib.

"I've got to catalog all of this cool scientific stuff," said Zim, "and send it to the proper government officials. Then I have to dissect myself!"

Normally, Dib would have leapt for joy that Zim had become so complacent, but something stopped him, and not just the fact that Zim was too heavy to hoist into the air. There was something intensely…_distasteful_ about the thought of an Irken Invader subjected to such menial scientific scrutiny. Surely Zim was destined for something greater, something more…destructive…

From somewhere deep inside Dib, something foreign, alien, yet all-too familiar welled up. His lips twisted into a smile, his eye twitched, and he laughed, a snarling, mocking, hideously evil laugh; Zim's laugh.

Zim cocked an eye at his companion. "You're weird Dib." He said simply.

"Bwahahahahaha-ahem, cough… Um, right, where were we?" spluttered Dib, his face still red with alien mirth.

"Computer!" yelled Zim, eliciting an electronic cough from same. "Activate the time-displacement device!"

"Yes, master. To what time do you wish to travel?"

"Since when do you call me master?" asked Zim quietly, but no one heard.

"Hmmm," said Dib, "Good question… If I use the time machine to send us back to just before the accident, we might not be able to stop it from happening in time. On the other hand, if we go back too far, and say…stop me from ever going to the house, we might just alter history too much, and change the course of EXISTENCE AS WE KNOW IT™!!!"

To an outside observer, it would have looked as if both Dib and Zim were lost in deep thought, pondering the question carefully. And indeed they were. To an inside observer, they would have looked really, really gross.

"I know!" shouted Zim triumphantly. "We could go back in time to before I even _came_ here, thus ending my plans for world conquest once and for all!"

"…leaving the world ripe for conquest by ME!" squealed Dib, his eyes blazing with Napoleonic fervor. (quick histo-fact: Napoleon was an alien, bent on ruling us all!)

"Computer, set the time-displacement device for before Zim's arrival on earth." commanded Dib. The computer, not used to taking orders from a human, and even less used to taking sane orders, period, had a microsecond's hesitation. Then it electronically shrugged, kicked off its electronic shoes, put its electronic feet up, and thought of the long vacation non-existence would bring it.

"Whatever," intoned the computer.

The time-displacement device rattled to life, electricity arcing within the portal, forming a whirlpool of light and energy, crackling and burning with incandescent fury. It spewed out some snacks, which had been snagged in an alternate dimension during the Tallests' binges.

Dib and Zim looked at each other, then down at their hideously twisted, nature mocking body, and stepped into the portal. The last thing Dib heard as entered bright oblivion was a tinny, high-pitched voice saying: "What's this button do?!?!"


End file.
